The Cuddle Hormone Problem
by incognitIoN
Summary: Sheldon did not like touch. But in the ultimate cosmic joke that was now his life, he started to crave it. Amok ensues. Warning: This fic gets dark and it is not recommended for everyone. (I wrote this in two days to get out of my writer's block so...yeah...any errors are my fault!)


**Songs:**

 **1st part: Hurts- Slow ( watch?v=xQ4xihxBZeA)**

 **2nd part: Hurts- Mercy ( watch?v=qW5ANNjzzfs)**

 **Hurts- The Road ( watch?v=7KwLYJVWYA8)**

 **3rd part: Hurts- (Exile watch?v=baWthtRhtnY)**

* * *

Sheldon did not like touch.

But in the ultimate cosmic joke that was now his life, he started to crave it.

Despite accusations, Sheldon was aware of what he considered to be the unnecessary, baser 'needs' of humanity. Knew on some level the emotional consequences of prolonged physical contact– of any contact really. Frankly, he did not care for it or see the desire to get caught up in such silly, thought consuming things, he remembered them though. He remembered everything. And secretly, nothing more vividly and clear than what brought his senses forth, including touch. He remembered the way his mother's eyebrows would scrunch together as he pulled away from her embrace. How he jerked in his chair as Missy would teasingly slide her finger up his bent spine as he tried to concentrate on his homework. His muscles tensing and teeth gritting as the kids at school shoved past him in the hallway; even the migraine brought on by the bright lights and the shrill of the school bell. No, when it came to bodily contact he tried to keep it to a minimum.

And then Penny came. And he hugged her anyway. For a very long time. The DNA of Leonard Nimoy had been worth it.

But he still did not like touch.

It was fittingly cold and dark out when Sheldon woke up on a Saturday that would put their future into play. Somehow, he managed to sleep through the prickly chill that stabbed through his sheets that morning stuffy-nosed-free, yet his ears and nose were unpleasantly cold. Sheldon deemed it the third worst morning experience in his adult life, right under the time where his favorite bowl was dirty and his least favorite episode of Doctor Who aired.

Penny came shuffling in without bothering to even knock, wrapped in a fuzzy blue robe she beelines straight to the kitchen. Sheldon acknowledged her with a nod as she has become part of his routine. After the shenanigans at the Arctic she had become a much more welcomed part of his mornings before heading to work, hours of having years of proud accomplishments scrutinized didn't seem so bad if Penny cheered him on.

It had shocked her when he came back so soon after resigning and leaving to Galveston. She had told him so, her words whispered conspiratorially in the middle of the living room as their friends awkwardly dispersed. He asked her why did she care. "Because friends don't do that," her voice tinged with disappointment that he couldn't tell if it were directed at them or himself. The words had been spoken so softly but he could hear the finality, the force in her declaration, as if she knew he would have something to say. Sheldon didn't say anything further that night, he didn't allow himself to think. He had to shut down. Restart. Research. Not just his work at Caltech, but every external force in his life.

What is friendship? How do you benefit from thenm? The do's and dont's of friendships…how to maintain friendships…how to end them…

She pulled him in then. Fifteen seconds, he counted. He didn't expect it. Didn't want it. But his body reacted to it anyway.

And through the long, tedious process of hugs, pitiful looks from his colleagues, skillful avoidance of the topic from his friends, anger started to grow. And appreciation.

Sheldon's eyes slid down her slender frame as did her fingers as they sought warmth underneath her robe, a soft whine of discomfort when they make contact with the rest of her body. He didn't notice when his inspection of her person became something more than self preservation (for health reasons or avoidance of her wrath during her monthly cycle). Of course, he'd always been aware that she was attractive– but that knowledge never occupied his thoughts so strongly or interrupted his daily activities. There were frightening moments when he'd think that his wandering eyes would be caught and questioned by either her or their friends. It wasn't leering and as Wolowitz and Hofstadter's were, his was curious, just another thing to add to his mental file that was human. That was Penny.

Sheldon stiffened as she plopped down next to him just a few inches too close, she wasn't touching him but it felt as if it had the same effect. No, he decided, this was arguably worse. The threat of contact teetering between will it or will it not, her squirming to get more comfortable had him gripping his cereal bowl tightly.

A script sat in her lap, written by an author under a pseudonym, the main protagonist was very similar to Penny's personality. Primrose-y Affair, the title read: A tale of obsession, lies, and murder. She was excited, said it was her first, real emotional piece. She bit her lip and a sigh escaped between her teeth, the exhale sounded like a poor attempt to whistle and he was very tempted to give her a strike. There were times when he entertained the thought of making an exception for her teasing behavior, if only because he did enjoy being challenged in some form now and again– but he enjoyed being in control far too much.

"Don't you have rehearsals this morning." He stated lightly, an accusatory lilt added, courtesy of her unwanted proximity to him. She hummed distractedly – he tried not to smile – her throat bobbing slightly as she swallowed her coffee. Half a cup of water, one third of two percent milk, and four teaspoons of sugar. He wrinkled his nose and disgust.

His thoughts in the morning became as much of a rehearsal as the the words she practiced as he watched her from the corner of his eye. Yes, he was merely appreciating her visually, his best friend. The way anyone else would appreciate a work of art, or the way he inspected the minute details of his train collection, or the subtext in a comic book. It wasn't of a sexual nature (it couldn't be) but it was depressingly physical nonetheless, Sheldon didn't like it either way. And one day he came to the rather unsatisfying conclusion that it would either have to die naturally with time, or he would have to take a step in controlling it.

"I hope I don't screw this up…" She mumbled more to herself than him. She had expressed this fear numerous times. Verbally. Physically. She called it her make-it-or-break-it role.

Sheldon stopped chewing his cereal and turned to look at her. "You won't," he says matter-of-factly. She smiles up at him, thanks him, he shushes her because the commercial is over.

When he brings his spoon up to his lips a scream pierces through the building, sending him up and alert. It was Penny's. A heavy thump whips his head around to Leonard's door, both men exchange glances at each before rushing out the apartment.

Sheldon nearly runs into Leonard on the last step into the lobby. Many frightening scenarios flashed through his mind and he has to keep his Mini-Bites down.

"Penny?" The voice did not sound like his, vibrated uncomfortably through his teeth and spoken uncertain off a dry, heavy tongue. He blinked slowly in a poor attempt to straighten the floor beneath his weak, aching knees.

Her eyes, hair, weight, and build were only momentarily deceptive to his brain. Her eyes and mouth covered in petals, a broken flower placed in her crossed hands. However, the pale blonde on the floor, on her stomach, was not dressed as their neighbor. At that realization some sense came back to him.

He had not prepared for this.

The first of his senses that came back was hearing. The sound of Leonard gasping for air and dry heaving, of his own uneven breath and the outside wind. Next, Penny's sobs and his low sigh of relief.

"Leonard." He turned to his friend, the smaller man's eyes haven't left the corpse since. "Call the police." He demanded, authority in his tone no different than when asking Leonard if he got his order of Thai right.

Penny's wide, teary eyes seemed to rely on him as a focal point, it unsettled him somewhat, like she was seeing him for the first time. He knew that she needed this to keep herself from looking at the body. But he could not meet it, he'd rather the dead woman stare at him; because people did not see Sheldon, not truly. Even the best of attempts from family, friends, and colleagues had been filtered with their own opinions and biases. He wondered if he could look up and go against years of defenses set up for such occasions. Because in this moment Sheldon (Dr. Whack-a-doodle who may or may not be an extraterrestrial robot from space sent to destroy mankind) was her grip on reality, safety, and sanity. He refrained from laughing at the irony. Even he knew that it wouldn't be appropriate.

Sheldon licked his lips and slowly rolled his eyes up to meet hers. He swallowed nervously. "I–" hoarse throat. He cleared it. Leonard's monotone voice drifted over them as he supplied their address. Bright, watery eyes blinked at him, began to view him rather in him, it gave him courage. "I'm right here. It's okay." The words curl strangely around his tongue, spreads through his fingers as he moves them to cup her hands in his.

He knew he should but as Leonard stumbled his way to them Sheldon keeps his hands firmly wrapped around hers. Once he makes contact with the wall he slides down to sit, his face pale and expressionless.

Panic shot through Penny's eyes when he stands, removing the barrier between her eyes and the body. He clenched his jaw as he looks at Leonard, he didn't understand how the man would have thought he'd make an exceptional mating partner when he couldn't maintain a sense of detachment in times of emergency. "Leonard, staring isn't going to help anything unless you have a desire to become a coroner. Get Penny upstairs and fix her a hot beverage. I'll wait for the police."

In the days that follow Penny became jumpy. Agitated. Violent even.

It was the small actions that if Sheldon hadn't been paying so close of attention to her he wouldn't have noticed. The way her body curled in on itself whenever someone sat too close to her on the sofa, the sound of the game controller creaking under the weight of her palm. Her uneven breathing whenever Howard or Leonard invaded her space; the latter's suggestive comments to go get drunk (no doubt to initiate coitus with their distressed friend) most likely instigated her biting remarks.

Although, he could understand the violent reaction seeing as how it was directed at Howard, his inquiry of if the victim was attractive to lighten the mood was not welcomed.

She got better the week after, takes them all to the theater to share her excitement with the set's progress. He suspected they only agreed to go to see the women in the play, an obvious move on Penny's part to get them to assist with technical aspects of the theater for free. And even though she commented that her view on her character and how to portray her had significantly improved, it was the first time Sheldon had seen her genuinely smile since the incident. It didn't last long.

She had burst into tears. Although, her character did require her to be crying in the particular scene, Penny had been a bit too convincing for their stomachs to handle.

Sheldon had enough, this behavior couldn't go on.

Penny yelled the next day when he told her so, he regretted saying anything before she took him to the comic boom store. He tells her that as well.

When one delicate, manicured hand comes close to poking him in the chest he glowers. She matches it. "How are you not affected by it?"

He didn't know why it bothered her this much. The play had done well in mixing reality and fiction in that overly emotional brain of hers. People died everyday. He didn't know her. He didn't kill the woman and upset Penny so badly she couldn't perform at work or in the play. And most importantly, to him, the young woman hadn't been Penny.

"There's no reason to dwell on something you had no control over," he scolded, "your stress over this woman's death, I am sure, has to do with the play. So, why don't you do something productive with your emotions instead of moping." Sheldon gestured for her to sit while he paced her messy floor. "For example, you stated on multiple occasions that you were concerned of ruining your chance at securing a future with the theater. But, portraying your character should be easier now, you've experienced feeling of fear and helplessness , you could give an truly authentic performance if only you got a hold of your emotions." Sheldon paused and looked down at his friend. Who he considered to be his best friend. Who could have the power to hold that status forever if she pleased. "Perhaps," he spoke slowly, "perhaps, I could be of some assistance. I'm afraid I don't have an appropriate response, or any protocol, written for situations such as these." He could feel his face growing hot, his heart beating painfully as if it were trying to jump out of his chest in protest at all the recent excitement. "I didn't see the need. Perhaps, I could make an exception for you as I have in the past when it comes to…physical intimacy."

"But you don't like hugs," she says dumbly. He closes his eyes momentarily to keep them from rolling and getting thrown out of her apartment.

"This is true but–"

"But you _don't_. And you're right it is silly, but I don't care and…I don't want to force you into awkwardly comforting me." She sighs as if he's disappointed her somehow and he balls his hands into fists.

Sheldon looked down at her carpet, his left eye twitched at the dirt. "This is true _but_ as I was saying before you rudely interrupted me," he leans forward as if he's about to reveal a secret, "I wanted to propose something a little more radical. I don't think you're feelings are silly, I think they're real and so is your pain. But you must understand that I see no logical reason to get upset. Aside from the fact that I handle things quite differently, including grief, I did not know this woman."

"What if it had been _me_? She looked just–"

He huffs, exasperated. "Penny, please. That's not fair."

She ran a hand through her hair and groaned, it slid down her flushed cheek to finally, settle over her mouth. He watched every movement closely. Found that he needed this more than he didn't want it.

Sheldon took two tentative steps forward. "Am I not your friend? Do you trust me, Penny?"

She looked up at him and nods her head, she's crying again.

Sheldon sat beside her and rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms against his cotton, plaid covered thighs.

He knows he shouldn't. He's half convinced himself that he doesn't want to. But he is a man of passion as much as he is order. And whatever he sets his mind to he must explore every surface of it– with thoughtful precision as much as unmitigated vigor.

And a girl like Penny needed physical affection. For when she's sad, happy, or confusingly just for the hell of it at times. He wasn't going to attempt to list every single reason why she may need a hug or a pat on the hand, he wasn't a hippie; but somewhere between breaking all of his rules and sticking up for him he began to deeply care for her. And sometimes he thinks she would be with him until the very end. Someone to challenge him, support him, and care for him even when he didn't seek it out or know that it was an option.

It was frightening how he came to rely on her so much.

"Penny." He turned to her on the couch, their knees touch and it makes him look up. "You are my friend and you require physical contact during this time of confusing grievance to calm you. I would like to try an experiment that may benefit the both of us," he speaks as soft and sincere as he can. "It would involve prolonged physical interaction so I would not have to reenact it everyday and interrupt my schedule. And should there come a time in the future where you would need physical contact to console you I would be…warmed up…to it and I won't be bohered if you initiated it under some terms, of course. However, this would not be incentive for you to touch me when it is inappropriate at this moment." His voice is stern and offers no room for argument but his heart is pounding. "In fact, I think it would be best if you did not touch me at all. Rather, let me initiate it. If you'd like."

Penny didn't say a word and he waits impatiently until the meaning sinks in. She blinks once, twice, her eyelashes stick to her soft, pink skin. Skin that he will have to touch. "You want to… _touch_ me?" She blushed.

"You will have to take a shower before we begin, be fast but thorough," he tells her, again, ignoring any room for argument. She merely frowned and he counts it as a miracle, inwardly scoffs at the thought, he's a genius and he knows how and when to place his pieces.

Sheldon started with a firm hand on her shoulder as he presses her down on the couch and facing the kitchen. Her hair is down, she dressed comfortably, a sky blue tee and black gym shorts. He requested it. Didn't need distractions: bright cami slips and tiny shorts with kittens in pink bows smiling up at him. His shoes are off and he's rolled up his sleeves. All the lights are off except the one in the sky peeking through the curtains like a burglar. This calms him as he takes his place behind her and nestled between him, one long leg propped on the couch and the other on the floor.

He looks down at his hands, closes them, opens them. It took twenty-two seconds to make his first move, three light pats between her shoulder blades. She giggled nervously and he warns her to remain quiet.

Quiet. Unmoving. Limp.

What begins as small, unsure circles on her shoulders with his thumb turned into a deep massage. He didn't realize how tense he was until she became slump and her breathing loud and shaky. Shushing her, her and splayed a hand above her chest to slowly press her against his chest. He teasingly takes his index and middle finger up and down her arms, adding more fingers and pressure with each stroke. Becomes entranced by the folds in her sky blue tee, lightly raking his fingernails up and down her arm, watched as the material crumpled and flattened underneath his palms. The coolness of the shirt contradicted her warm skin, similar to dipping into a cool shower on a sunny day. He moved to lean against the arm a chair, spreading his legs to make her more comfortable as their bodies pressed closer.

Humming satisfyingly, he picked up her hand and circled his thumb on the inside of her wrist. He could feel her pulse beat irregularly and he found that incredibly pleasing, to know that he had affected her as she did him. His fingers slid between hers to rest them on her stomach, he danced his fingers across the folds of her tee, pulling it up. The hand not resting on his belly fluttered over her hip, dragging his finger over the exposed skin there. Penny wriggled and he inhaled sharply, his body momentarily frozen, until he shakily exhaled through pinched lips. Abruptly, he squeezed his thighs against her body to restrict her movement.

He lowered his head and brings his lips to her ear, the heady scent of honey and roses invade his air. "I thought I said don't…," his hands slid down to her waist, "…move." The words are forced, strained. "I am aware that you have little to no control over yourself but," he gripped her tightly, "please keep in mind that I do not have the same luxury, Penny." He rolled his hips once. Twice. Three times. "This alone is an assault on my senses," he panted, "and I am trying…I am _trying_." He counted his blessings when she didn't push him away. "Repeated offenders will eventually exhaust this system's leniency. Do not press it."

It took a lot to get him sexually aroused, and the times he did it never involved a half dressed woman draped over him. Most of the time it hadn't even been a woman, per say, but the thought of physical intimacy itself. A faceless, quiet body in the dark and nothing but soft, warm skin for his taking. Thoughts were different than experience, he never would imagine that if he actually touched someone it would produce the same results as his imagination. His fantasies didn't involve the mess that came with real sex: sweat, tears, cum, and saliva. But Penny had somehow allowed him to turn it into reality, the sly vixen, and he was sure that if he continued he may have to place his disgust of others bodily fluids aside.

Sheldon pushed her matted, golden bangs away from her forehead, before settling on her head to lightly scratch her scalp. "But you're doing very good, Penny, I'm surprised. I expected to reprimand you more than once so far." He decided that this was much better than rewarding her with chocolate.

He decided that to spare him the torture of her weight between his legs to pull her onto his lap. He bended his knees when he propped her against him, his leg now between her thighs. "You're being so good for me," he muttered. And he didn't even have to take her out on a 'not date' as Leonard did. Leonard would have, wouldn't he? He had no doubt that his friend knew how to please a woman, nerds are known for being generous in bed, but he never could get past the self esteem and mommy issues. Could never become an alpha male in society, relationships, or with his work despite being held back for so long by bullies and emotional needs. Well, not in a healthy way at least. He was afraid to ask Penny out, submitted to Sheldon's will on his own, and destroyed his reputation in jealousy and petty hate. But Sheldon had came back out on top, as he always would, while Leonard continued to destroy his life in an attempt to (ironically) benefit himself. Penny had declined any romantic relationship with him. His colleagues refused to work with him. Insecurity sought destruction. Just not in the way his good guy act thought it would.

And now Sheldon had Penny in his lap, an equally proud, dominant creature that had decided to let go in order for him to comfort her. Pleasure her. He wondered if she knew his endgame, decided to remain quiet as he felt out the next step. A groan escaped from his lips and he pulled her closer, his knee spread her thighs further apart. The thought made him even more aroused.

The scent of her own arousal had him press his lips to her neck, his hips rolling slow and hard. He sucked and licked until she squirmed and panted above him. His tongue latched onto her rapid pulse, her arousal, her life. He didn't even realize she had begun to ride his thigh because now his lips had traveled to the back of her neck. Golden, honeyed scented hair brushed against his eyes and cheeks.

And everything was touch and smell and Penny. Penny, Penny, Penny. Popped the 'p,' and genuine smile on the 'y.' Her name stumbled from his lips, begging for his old self back against her neck. He wanted to apologize for what he's done, but he'd be unable to lie. To who? To her? Himself? His ignorance before her? He'd been mad for coming up with a conclusion without all the variables. He sighed. Her sky blue tee fluttered against his mouth.

When Sheldon had been young he'd often find his fingertips settling on his lips, found the sensation even more calming when his hands were warm and wet. It made him feel similar to when he had his blankie wrapped around his skinny, gangly frame in front of a fire during the winter. When he'd come home from school parched from being force fed dirt by bullies, the feel of cold, sweet milk making contact with his dry lips felt like heaven. Or the way he used to rub them against his favorite stuffed animal after his meemaw washed and dried it. Much like Penny's sky blue cotton tee. He mused if these were what kisses feel like and then immediately dismisses that thought.

"Stop," he panted. But she already did, she'd been calling his name and he didn't notice. Slowly…slowly, he pulled her back against his chest and loosely wrapped his arms around her. He counted as he waited for their breathing to calm, his nose nuzzling against her shoulder as he breathed in her scent.

"That is enough for now, I think." She nodded a moment later, her thoughts on something he did not know or cared to at the moment. He had her for now. "I'll write up the results in two weeks time. Your monthly cycle should be arriving in two days, it's the perfect time to observe the effects after prolonged physical contact. Now," he breathed, "will you take me to the comic book store?"

* * *

Nothing disrupted his schedule in the following three weeks. It was strange to pretend everything was normal on the surface when he knew it was the opposite.

"Dude, even if he loved her just because Spock 'killed' Kirk so he could mate doesn't mean he would no longer regret it. He did. Probably would on his own death bed. You saw his face when he found out Kirk was alive. They're best friends." Raj placed his tray on the cafeteria table and arched his brow.

Howard laughed under his breath. " _So_? I mean, c'mon! _Every_. _Seven_. _Years_. That can't be good for his sanity, he'd have to lose it and kill someone eventually and just not care, y'know? I wouldn't blame him either. Even Vulcans gotta release some stress," He wriggled his eyebrows. "Especially if their mate is as smokin' as T'Pring." Raj let out a noise of disgust and Howard ignored him as he turned to Sheldon. "Hm, any thoughts from our own resident Vulcan?

Sheldon wiped his mouth on a napkin and sighed. His eyes darted to Raj who gave him a funny look, he smirked. " _It would be illogical for us to protest against our natures - don't you think?_ " He quoted Spock.

"Which is…what?" Howard pressed. "Sex?" His eyes lit up and he grinned cheekily.

"No, no, I think he means violence?" Leonard added.

"Friendship, get your minds out of the gutter." Raj muttered which earned him an approved nod from Sheldon.

"Or perhaps…" Sheldon eyed his three friends before his gaze settled on Howard, "all three."

"But do you think he would regret it?" Raj asked. He always knew how to ask the right questions, Sheldon liked that, letting your thoughts sink in and filter through your brain before you opened your mouth.

" _After a time,_ " he'd begun to quote again, " _you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing after all as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true_." He tilted his head. "I think either way the results would prove to be dissatisfying, satisfaction is not in Vulcan nature after all–least of all one that's beneficial to the needs of the one instead of the needs of the many. If he had to kill his best friend in order to mate with his beloved…it would have to better society in some way. Him mating and living would have to benefit society. And well…Kirk does better society and takes care of his crew, although the way he gets those things done may go against protocol or even law…in the end Spock's order balances his often rash behavior. We see that dynamic flip in this instance because they have a deep, mutual respect for one another and their needs, they work together. So yes, he would regret losing that friendship, whether he decided to mate…or not, as evidenced in the episode. However, I imagine he wouldn't mind killing Kirk and not regretting it if the captain's selfishness was always more personal and harmful to the majority."

The table had fallen eerily silent at those words. Sheldon thinking about killing off friends had not been a perfect topic for lunch conversation.

Howard broke it, a panicked laugh bubbled from his chest. "You know, Sheldon, you were awfully brave handling that dead body." He leaned in and whispered so only their table could hear. "I didn't think you could stomach something like that. I'd have thought it would be you throwing up at the sight of a dead body rather than Leonard." That earned him a nasty glare from Leonard and Howard laughed.

"Yeah," Leonard grinned tightly and stabbed his peas. "You were quite the hero."

"Being heroic had nothing to do with it, you simply have to be prepared and take control of the things around you. For instance, two months ago when…"

––––––––––

 _Sheldon and Raj departed to their office after lunch and he turned to lock the door before cornering him. "Who was it?" He narrowed his eyes._

 _Raj turned around, startled at the lack of space between them. "Who was what?"_

 _Sheldon's eyes traveled across Raj's desk to land on the drawer closest to him. "I wasn't aware that you picked up a new hobby, Raj, you should have shared your new passion at lunch." Sheldon leisurely walked towards his own desk and pulled out a stack of paper. Raj's eyes widened and his face paled, he opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was unintelligible mumbling. "I'm a master lock picker," he dropped the script onto Raj's desk. "And apparently you're a writer. And a murderer as well? My, you've been busy."_

 _"I-I don't know what you're talking about." He managed to say, his stuttering and strained voice betrayed him. "You're being ridiculous._

 _Raj gripped his chair and attempted to stand but slipped, his sweaty palms betrayed him, and he fell to the floor. Sheldon stopped at his feet and bent down. "Don't play stupid with me with, Raj, I haven't the patience or time."_

 _Raj shut his mouth, his teeth clacked noisily together._

 _"Raj."_

 _"How did you find out?" He said tiredly._

 _Sheldon let out a breathy, little laugh. "You know, for fellow scientist I thought y'all would be smarter– especially after screwing me over. You think I wasn't watching every move the three of you made? Lord knows that you should he aware by know who you're dealing with, Raj. How many is it so far? Two? Three" At Raj's surprised face he smirked. "Oh, yes. You're that reckless."_

 _Sheldon hummed thoughtfully. "There was a strand of blonde hair on one occasion at the bottom of Howard's sleeve, which wasn't strange enough despite his nonstop whining about 'striking out.' But, one of similar length whom I initially believed to be Penny's…except this girl's hair was longer and lighter…stuck to the bottom of his shoe and there was a speck blood on the sleeve of his jacket. He took it off when he killed her I expect, but he did a poor job of cleaning himself up afterwards. In Leonard's car I found the same hair, I guess before they could properly clean it out thanks to the strict schedule I hold in place. And my keen sense of smell was all but bombarded with cheap perfume and one very particular strong smell, the power of myself and Google together never cease to amaze or wrong me. Leonard should have went lighter on the chloroform, but then again he was never that good in the lab."_

 _Raj slumped against the door, his eyes red and his lips trembled._

 _"But, perhaps the most damning evidence of all are the text messages and emails between our chatty, idiot comrades. Don't ask me how I got a hold of those, it wasn't easy. Oh, and they're penchant for keeping trophies, um," Sheldon put two fingers in the air and motioned them opening and closing, "hair and snips of clothing. Very convenient when you have an immobile mother like Mrs. Wolowitz, not so when someone decides to sneak into your home. Mind explaining before I call the authorities?"_

 _Raj looked up quickly then, his eyes wide and mouth slacked in panic. "Y-you can't, Sheldon, please!" He nearly shrieked. "And it wasn't my fault! Please, just–I didn't want this, I told them I–"_

 _Sheldon tsked and crossed his arms. "It doesn't matter, Raj, you were present and didn't say anything. You know what comes next." He stood, using his height and Raj's position as an advantage. "Karma is going to come for you and it won't be pretty. But…" He held up one long finger, "the outcome could be different. If you tell me everything."_

 _"How?"_

 _"You're still my friend, aren't you?" Raj had been the only one to apologize for sabotaging his work, he would spare him–just a bit._

 _Raj told him Penny had been the cause of Leonard's descent into madness. She rejected him and not only did he become miserable. He got angry. They went out to a bar one night to get drunk and hopefully get lucky with a girl, it had started no different than any other night._

 _A woman (tall, blonde, and beautiful) had set her eyes on Raj, she found the quiet, geeky guy with an accent attractive. A change in the guys she usually went for. She wanted to have fun. Forget her recent break up. It happened in Raj's car. They were supposed to go to a party, a friend of hers. The last word she would utter that set things into motion would be sweetie on her lips– for Raj and him only. Raj swerved into the grass when Leonard reached for her. Hit him. Dragged her into the back seat. Howard held her kicking legs down as Leonard choked her._

 _"I can't do this anymore, Sheldon." He cried. Sobbed. Curled in on himself._

 _Sheldon closed his eyes…connecting every small detail, all the things he researched online about serial killers since knowing, every flaw and quirk of his former friends– some part of him waited for a moment like this. It was going to be fun. He looked down at Raj's guilt fueled script that he wrote as some sort of apology to the women he couldn't save– for redemption. It would be nothing more than evidence in the near future, secured and snapped shut in a plastic bag, meeting the fate as the women. Sheldon grinned. "I need Primrose flowers. And you…" He waited for Raj to look up at him, as confused as when they started this conversation, "you have a play to finish."_

––––––––––

They found another victim. Strangled this time, three petals positioned on her face and the broken flower between her hands– just like the last one. It was only a matter of time now.

She texted him at work. He ignored it. He'd deal with her later.

And he did.

Pressed her hard against the wall in her kitchen. Kissed her slow and gentle. She tasted like the Earl Gray tea they'd forgotten on the counter. Dash of milk. Sugar. Poorly stirred. Squirt of honey. Hesitantly, he licked the sugar away. She moaned.

When they pulled apart she smiled at him and he could probably understand why the man lost it. Being a scientist meant understanding and exhausting every possibility until something more logical came long, but Leonard continued to do the same thing and expected different results. And he lost it. Sheldon laughed at the thought.

"What's so funny?" Penny smiled up at him.

"Oh, nothing important," he shook his head. "I need you to take a shower. Then come back and put a blanket – a clean one – over the couch if this is going to work."

Penny arched an eyebrow. "…a blanket, Sheldon?" She wrapped her arms around him and stood on her tip toes. "If you're cold I could warm you up."

"I have no doubt about that. But I still need it," he told her, completely missing her attempt at flirting. "You don't have theost comfortable couch, Penny." She snorted and patted his arm. Ah, she thought he was joking last time.

Penny looked to the closet where her linens were and back to him. She scruched up her nose. "Why do you have to do it like this anyway? I mean, I'm glad you aren't writing up a contract." She winced because now she thinks he definitely will. He already did and he just needed to proofread it. "I know you don't like germs but…aren't you overreacting just a bit, sweetie."

Sheldon rolled his eyes at her laziness and questions. "There's a _reason_ why there are rules, Penny. And this isn't just about germs. I use my senses, unlike others who go about half tuned to the world. Really, it's no wonder why they're brains are so underdeveloped. I may not be able to understand things like sarcasm or subtle hints in conversations of what someone truly wants. But I take the world at its full, I have no barriers, therefore, I must construct my own so as to not become overstimulated and overwhelmed. So I can focus, think, work…just like you." He frowned. "Well, not exactly like you." Penny did send him a clear message with her crossed arms and glare. "And…" He licked his lips nervously. "I am seeing that particular thought could have been better worded."

"There's no good way that you could have worded that, but I'm still listening."

"What may seem to be a bright light to your eyes is no different than being forced to stare at the sun for me. A scratchy blanket may leave you irritable and poorly rested, but it tears at my skin until I feel as if I'm on fire. An unpleasant smell is like a knife up my sinuses and beaten repeatedly down on my head. It's a violation against my will. Body. Mind. And it's coming from inside me, and I never know when it may decide to attack me." He closed the distance between them and clasps his hands behind his back. "Don't ever mistake my discomfort for mere preference, that my overreacting is unjustified. I'm not going to force you to do anything. I care about you. You could get the blanket or we could do something else or…we could go to your room."

––––––––––

 _Sheldon read a lot. Most of the things he couldn't stomach. But he learned a great deal in a short amount of time with his accomplice._

 _Raj's script – tweaked just enough to match Howard's style – had been sent and accepted at a small, seemingly unimportant theater. Howard and Leonard fancied themselves romantics, they would be in for a surprise. And that's where the primroses came in, bought online with one of Leonard's credit cards. Surprisingly, it wasn't that hard to turn the Raj away from his friends._

 _The look on Leonard's face when he saw them sprinkled across the victim in the lobby was worth it. He knew he wouldn't confront Howard on it, Leonard's paranoia and insecurity were his own downfall, and both men decided to go solo._

 _Her name was Allison and Howard was a regular. He found her contact details when he was snooping through his room. Leonard and Howard were messy, but they weren't so sloppy that they would get caught anytime soon. He took it upon himself to move the inevitable along._

 _He called her. Met her in a hotel._

 _The needs of the many, he told himself thirty-three times on the way there._

 _He strangled her with a wire._

 _He had to squeeze his eyes shut. Almost became sick twice. It hadn't been easy._

 _I don't want to die alone_

 _You're not alone_

 _I'm here…not going to leave you_

 _Penny_

 _They fell onto the bed, him under her, pinning her down using his leg as he drained the life from her._

 _The needs of the many_

 _She looked just like her_

 _He ejaculated the moment she stopped moving._

 _"Oh, good lord."_

 _He quickly shoved her off._

 _He didn't mean to_

 _She looked just like her_

 _She put a good fight, he'd have to make sure nothing is left behind. Well, except the evidence he'd planted. Howard's DNA in a wadded up tissue paper in his wastebasket, the deleted text messages he sent from his phone._

 _They found her days later floating in a lake._

* * *

It was much easier the second time. Poking and prodding her. Touching her. Caressing her. He started the same way he did last time. Routine made it easier.

Her skin was cold and he moaned as he pushed her thighs apart with his knees. It wasn't perfect, he could see the rise and fall of her bare chest, her closed eyes fluttering. He undressed her as she stayed in a coma-like state.

Sheldon picked up her wrist and placed his lips to the inside of it and closed his eyes. He lets it go and it falls back on the bed. Ran a finger lightly down her forehead to her lips. Turned her head left and right as if inspecting her– no different than a dead body. He let out a small whimper. No. It was different for her to stay still and quiet so he didn't become overwhelm, that was all. He pulled away, hyperventilating now. Her face was so calm, trusting, and suddenly he felt dirty. Hot with shame. It only made him impatient. Aroused. He removed his shirt.

When he kissed her it was gentler than the other times. More charged. Desperate.

He undid his pants with shaking fingers, groaned in anticipation as the sound of his zipper pierced the air. He rubbed against her as he moved down the bed, and he pressed his burning face into the the cool sheets, thrusted hard against her two more times. The feeling is incredible. Powerful. Too much. It's too much and he can't stop rolling his hips and she couldn't tell him to stop. He's not even fully undressed and it's going to end before it begans. Sheldon pressed his hungry mouth against her slacked one, clumsily and with raw need.

Regretfully, he pulled away to pull his clothing off, taking his time to move back up her body with wet, lingering kisses. His fingers spread and carefully explored every curve, dip, and swell of her body, vision blurred, unsure of what he can and can't do. He had never really knew the difference when growing up. And he didn't know if she wanted this. To be with him. They hadn't talked about it the first time. It just was. The same way she walked into his apartment and complimented his work, befriended him, challenged him, and cared for him. It had always been okay. Ever since that first day when she smiled at him and his heart ached.

She felt like home. Loving and warm.

He kissed her temple and pressed his forehead to hers, his breathing becoming harsher with every thrust, slow and rough. The only sound is of his own laboured breath and the bed groaning underneath their weight. Their pleasure rising as hips slid against each other in exquisitely slow agony as he searched for the perfect tempo.

She subtly rolled her hips now and then, and his pace quickened every time, pushing her deeper into the mattress. Gripping her thigh tightly each time she misbehaved, testing his control, before reverting back to the almost lazy rocking of his hips.

"Stay." He pressed her back down into the mattress. Her exhale turned into a groan of frustration and he pressed his lips to hers. Her lips are too tempting he decides before nuzzling her neck. And she didn't deserve it at the moment. Evil in the flesh. Possesion in the slight twist of her hips, no matter how tight he held them down they managed to slip from his grasp. Another whimper as he snapped his hips forward, this time fast and demanding. He dropped small kisses to her hot, deceitful mouth, muttering for her to either be quiet or scream louder– all southern drawl, no sweetness in his tone. "But stay," he told her. "Stay with me."

He rolled his hips, retreated from her warmth before sinking back in at a different angle, no more faster or forceful than when he started. Lets out a laugh under his breath as she met his thrusts with need now.

"I'll stay," she said. "I'll stay, Sheldon, please just –"

She wrapped herself around them, clawed at his back in an attempt to pull him closer, he allowed her. His strokes becoming faster now, each one more desperate and uncontrolled as if he were trying rid of himself of everything he'd ever felt. Give it to her so she could cup it in her hands, translate it to him, make him understand the things he went so long without. And she met him equally, brought burning skin against skin to melt together, turn it into something new.

Sheldon bucked as her body shuddered uncontrollably under his, both moaning loudly as she came. Looking down at her, their eyes meet, and she's the last thing he saw before ecstasy washed over his body and clouded his senses.

He woke up to the sound of a door getting kicked in.

––––––––––

Raj popped opened a beer bottle and sat on the couch in Sheldon's apartment and smiled softly. He finally moved all of his belongings into Sheldon's apartment, funnily enough, on the day Leonard was sentenced.

"What's got you all smiley? Got a hot date tonight?" Penny sat next to him, Raj only blushed and shrugged, picking up his half finshed beer to give him some liquid courage."

"I imagine he's thinking of how pleasant life will be now and all the work he'll get done since we're down two toxic people." Sheldon turned from his desk to look at his two friends.

"Months later and I still can't believe it." Penny shook her head sadly. "Amazing how you think you know your friends…how they really think about you…what they'd do. I can't believe my career picked up from Howard's creepy play! I almost wish I didn't star in it after the news was made public. Almost." She muttered the last part. "Especially if they make a movie with some younger chick who plays me."

Raj nodded and frowned, his good mood slowly fading, probably thinking of past things that should never be brought up again. "I'd want Johnny Depp to play me."

Sheldon rolled his eyes at the two. "Do you think they regret it, Penny? Doing what they did?"

She bit her lip, looked to Raj as if he'd tell her the answer, she slowly shook her head.

"Well, neither should you."

"They were still our friends…"

"Keyword. Were."

"Gee, you make it sound so easy Sheldon!" She said sarcastically, hopping up to wrap her arms around him.

"You're welcome, Penny."


End file.
